Emiline Part.one

EmmaKarin Eriksson
“Emiline your weight goal is 130 pounds.”
I say nothing.
“Emiline do you hear me?”
“Emiline… EMILINE?”

My mother is shouting at me.
“Wake up you’re going to be late for school.”
I roll out of bed and crawl to the bathroom.
My eyes are blue and purple bruised.
My skin is pale- almost yellow in the hard bathroom light.
I brush my teeth trying to get rid of last night’s bile and vomit taste.
As I brush my hair, clumps begin to fall to the floor.
I start to feel cold, then hot, then cold, then scorching.
I shake, and break out in a damp sweat all over.
My vision starts to fade and my head starts to pound.
My brittle fingers grip the sinks sides.
Hold on sister- Ana whispers in my ear.
Hold on, you’re almost there.
The demon is bringing me closer.
I feel it grip onto my shoulders pulling me into darkness.
My fingers grip tight for a second…
And then I give in. 

Who are these people?
I have no idea.
Why am I here?
Not a clue.
I am dropping acid with these people I have just met.
My dress blows in the breeze as the drugs kick in.
I close my eyes and fall into the blissful purple world as become.
My cowboy boots kick up dust in the drive way as we clamor into this persons van.
I know no one.
We drive to a field; the sun shines through in slits onto my face.
I am raped countless times.
My purple world becomes a cocoon as they stab me viciously.
I am bleeding from the things they do to me.
The girls laugh and go along with it.
Beating me in the face, putting joints out on my arms.
All I can do is whimper and let my purple world protect me.

They throw m e out of the van.
At about 20 miles and hour.
Everyone is asleep.
I turn the on the shower and collapse in the tub.
The water falls on my skin like rain.
Drip, drip, drop little April showers.
I can feel my dry skin drink up the drops.
The dry blood from my nose suddenly springs to life and runs down my face.
I can taste it on my lips.
The drugs have worn off.
I am in so much fucking pain.

My eyes snap open.
She pulls the bath tub plug and cruses about how the blood will leave a ring.
“Momma…” my voice is so weak, “…I cant move…”
“I don’t care you little shit get out of the tub, your father wants to take yout o the hospital.”
“he’s not my father,” I whisper.
I try to claw my way out of the bath tub.
Slipping on the floor of the tub.
Slipping in and out of consciousness.
Jacob is staring at me.
“Mom, what happened.”
His voice is eerily calm and strong. His eyes pierce my mothers heart.
“Go back to bed hunny. Emiline’s just got her period.”
I slip and grab at the wall for support, but I fall back into the tub with a splash.
My hand slides down the tile wall leaving the streak of my bloody hand print.
My attempts at saving myself are always in vain.
Jacobs’s eyes are transfixed on the blood.
Before my mother pulls me out, throws me on the floor and my eyes roll back into my head.
I catch a glimpse of my brother.
And watch as the color drains from his boyish face.

By the time my mother found me in the bath I had lost a lot of blood from various wounds.
Not enough to kill me.
But I was certainly in no condition to get out of the tub, dry off, put on clean clothes and sit in the car.
Mother knows best, and I am forced into these tasks half dead.
But the time we get to the hospital my nightgown was damp and bloody.
My wet hair clung to my face as I passed in and out of consciousness.
All I remember was wanting them to take the needle out of my arm.
My mother didn’t have Tupperware parties for a week.